Aloo tikki, or spiced potato fritters, are to northern Indian and Pakistan what the chip is to Britain: a near ubiquitous street food, best served hot, crisp, and satisfyingly salty. Substitute ketchup for chutney, and a banana leaf for a twist of newspaper (or, less romantically, a foil dish for a polystyrene box), and it’s a perfect match. Though it must be admitted that aloo tikki is a bit more sophisticated.

The great Madhur Jaffrey writes evocatively in her memoir, Under the Mango Trees, of the aloo-ki-tikiyas of her childhood, bought from a stall just outside the theatre door: “As soon as he got the order, the vendor would place a patty on a leaf, split it open and smother both parts with sweet-and-sour tamarind chutney. We would carry these hot patties back into the dark cinema house and eat them as we watched Hanuman trying to rescue Sita, the good queen, from the clutches of the demon king of Sri Lanka.”

Similarly, Ismail Merchant, a man noted almost as much for his food as for his films, waxed lyrical about the pleasure, at the end of a day’s shopping in the bazaar, of a pit stop at a “beautifully decorated cart” for an aloo tikki, freshly prepared and served “on an enormous banana leaf”.

These days, you can even get a McAloo Tikki burger in Indian McDonald’s, a development which, sadly, has not made it as far as Britain. Happily, however, like chips, they’re simplicity itself to make at home for lunch, tea, or a party (they have an unparalleled ability to soak up booze), and have the crowd-pleasing benefit of being both vegan, and easily rendered gluten free. Just like chips, in fact.

The potatoes

Though most of the recipes don’t specify this fact, aloo tikki should be made from a fairly fluffy potato: Meera Sodha’s Made in India, and chef Alfred Prasad both suggest maris pipers for the task.

Boiling them in their jackets, as Prasad, Madhur Jaffrey’s Invitation to Indian Cooking and Ismail Merchant’s Indian Vegetarian Cooking recommend, maximises their flavour; both call for them to be peeled before use, but as ever, I don’t really see the point; the skin not only adds flavour and fibre, but gives the cakes a more interesting texture. This is definitely not traditional though, so feel free to peel them if you prefer.

Anjali Pathak’s Indian Family Kitchen boils the potato pieces with turmeric and lemon peel, which gives them a lovely flavour and colour – obviously less noticeable if they’re cooked in their skins, but still detectable nevertheless.

Other vegetables and aromatics

Sodha, Jaffrey, Geeta Gupta, sister-in-law of the Indian food blogger Mamta Gupta, and, according to her “a great cook”, all use onion (Sodha uses the red variety, which I love for the extra pop of sweetness it adds). Sweet onion pairs perfectly with the sugary little peas often found in aloo tikki. Jaffrey uses dried peas, soaked and boiled. I’m pretty keen on both, but the fresh sort has the edge on flavour, as well as being considerably quicker to prepare; as Sodha and Pathak notes, you don’t even really need to cook frozen petit pois, just thaw them out.

Prasad, whose aloo tikki is distinctly fancy, makes a spinach puree instead, with butter and fenugreek leaves, and pipes it into little coins which are then frozen for ease of stuffing the finished cakes. It’s completely, utterly delicious, but gets lost among the other spices; the sweeter pea is a better idea. (I also try shredded cabbage, which Gupta suggests as an alternative, but find it similarly shy and retiring.)

Pathak and Gupta use garlic (“very optional”, according to the latter), and Sodha and Pathak fresh ginger, both of which help to add zip to the potato, though my favourite addition is the popular coriander; Merchant’s peppery parsley alternative seems a bizarre choice. Green chilli, used liberally by almost everyone, gives a herbaceous, almost bitter heat to the cakes and, with a dash of lemon juice, proves the perfect foil for all that wonderful, carby stodge.

The spices

Though I try aloo tikki spiced with everything from fenugreek to the pungent, aesfoetida-rich chat masala, having gone for a sharp, green flavour profile, I’m going to keep dried spices to a minimum, to give the potato a chance. Pathak’s mustard seeds give a burst of sour heat and a satisfying crunch, while Sodha and Gupta’s garam masala supplies a subtle sweetness – add a little dried chilli powder if you’d prefer your version to have more of a kick.

Binding and coating

Some aloo tikki recipes, including Jaffrey and Pathak, are pure, unadulterated potato, but they’re easier to shape and cook if you include some sort of binder. Sodha suggests flour, and Gupta cornflour and bread, while Merchant mixes in so much fat in the form of cream, oil and egg that his taste like the kind of thing you might find on top of a fish pie. (And very nice they are, too.)

It seems most sensible to use the same thing to bind the mixture as to coat it before frying (this is similarly optional, but I’d highly recommend it for creating a crisp outer crust) – and again, flour works fine, as would breadcrumbs, or even Prasad’s soaked sago pearls, which are deliciously crunchy when fried. My vote, however, goes to Pathak’s semolina for its slight grittiness, which makes for a pleasing contrast with the fluffy potato.

Shaping and cooking

Most recipes stuff the potato with the spiced pea mixture, in the traditional fashion, but my testers prefer Sodha’s version, which stirs them through the whole mixture, with the result that you get a little of everything with each bite. Controversial, perhaps, but worth the risk in my opinion.

Pathak and Prasad chill their aloo tikki before cooking, to help them keep their shape, but I don’t find this is a problem if you use a binder – indeed, it makes heating them through without burning the outside somewhat trickier for the amateur.

Gupta deep fries her aloo tikki, with predictably delicious results, but it’s not necessary; frying them in a shallow pool of fat (oil, or oil and Merchant’s butter, if you’re feeling particularly decadent) works a treat, and with much less in the way of clearing up.

Best served with chutney (Prasad has a delicious sweet-and-sour date-and-tamarind version here), though it is also surprisingly good in a roll, McAloo Tikki style.

Put the potatoes, whole and unpeeled, into a pan just big enough to hold them, along with the turmeric and a generous pinch of salt and cover with cold water. Bring to the boil, then simmer until very tender and drain. Put back into the hot pan for a minute or so to steam dry.

Meanwhile, heat the oil in a frying pan over a medium heat and then fry the onion until soft and beginning to caramelise. Stir in the ginger, garlic, chillis, mustard seeds and garam masala and fry for another minute. Stir in the peas and cook for a minute or so to defrost if necessary.

If you must, peel the potatoes, then mash well, and add to the frying pan. Stir in the lemon juice and two tablespoons of semolina, mix well then season to taste.

Roll the mixture into golf-ball sized portions, then flatten into cakes. Press both sides in semolina.

Coat the bottom of a frying pan with oil, and add the ghee if using. Heat over a medium-high flame, then add the tikki (they should sizzle). Cook until golden brown, then carefully flip over and repeat. Serve warm with chutney.

Aloo tikki: best street food ever, or does India boast even better hot and salty snacks that we all deserve to know about? And how do you make it into an aloo tikki burger?